


let's get lost in the light, baby

by cursingcursive (queenradi)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, literally just porn guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 16:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenradi/pseuds/cursingcursive
Summary: “Ah, jeez.” Lance grins and licks his bottom lip. His eyes are cloudy and hooded while he stares Keith down. He takes the joint from him, their fingers bumping clumsily. The touch sends slow shivers down Keith’s spine. “You’re gone, baby,” Lance says.





	let's get lost in the light, baby

**Author's Note:**

> title from "lost in your light" by dua lipa
> 
> i got high and then i wrote this and now we're here

Keith’s lungs burn in the good, hot way that makes the world feel more real. Not all the way real, not like anything is solid or really happening, but that sharp heat on every inhale helps keep his eyes functioning. He can feel his mouth, but he doesn’t know he’s smiling until he has to stop to take the joint between his lips again. Everything is soft, a little floaty. Keith sucks down more smoke and feels it scrape up on his bones, and on the exhale that burn knocks him to his knees.

“Don’t choke,” Lance mumbles affectionately at his side.

“Hm?” Keith coughs once, twice, blinks real slow and turns his head. “Wha?”

“Ah, jeez.” Lance grins and licks his bottom lip. His eyes are cloudy and hooded while he stares Keith down. He takes the joint from him, their fingers bumping clumsily. The touch sends slow shivers down Keith’s spine. “You’re gone, baby,” Lance says.

“Yeah.” Keith doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to. He smiles, easy, and leans heavy into Lance’s side.

They’re on the big, soft-cushioned armchair that almost works as a loveseat. The fit is cozy and close; Keith has both of his legs hooked over Lance’s lap, their shoulders are pressed together, and if Lance tilts his head just right his mouth is on Keith’s neck. The room is warm and dark, save for the lively flicker of some cartoon on the TV.

It had been Keith’s idea.

He’d come into the living room, unable to sleep, and Lance was perched in front of the coffee table, watching a cooking show while rolling joints like his life depended on it. Keith knew that they were all going to Hunk and Pidge, who were about to embark on a two month long road trip without any rolling skills themselves, and they were going to need all the easy-access weed they could get. Keith knew that.

Keith also knew that he’d been friends with Lance, Pidge, and Hunk for three years and in all that, he’d never gotten high. Drunk, yeah, a little too much considering his inability to hold his liquor. But high? He’d never considered it. Watching his friends do it was funny enough, and the smell had always put him off.

But tonight…

It had to have been Lance. Keith never allowed himself to watch Lance roll, because it was too deft and easy and every time Lance brought the paper to his lips for a precise little lick along the edge, Keith’s brain overheated and he had to excuse himself. So he didn’t make it a habit of watching Lance’s best features at work, knowing how great the risk of distraction was.

It was definitely Lance’s fault. Why else would Keith have sat on the couch behind Lance, wrapped his arms around him, and asked as innocently as possible, “Wanna get me stoned?”

Within minutes, Lance had Keith draped on his lap, had a joint lit and pressed to his lips, was exhaling and smirking while Keith took his first hit.

Now they’re here, almost to the smoldering end, and the world is all soft golden light and the gentleness of Lance’s hands on Keith’s thighs.

“How’s it feel?” Lance mumbles. He drags his mouth down Keith’s neck, wet and warm.

“Mmmm,” Keith hums.

“Words, baby?”

“Real good.” Keith closes his eyes. He pushes himself up a little, just enough to really straddle Lance and get their bodies pushed together in every right way. “How ‘bout you?”

“God.” Lance’s hands slide down and grab up the backs of Keith’s thighs. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

Keith’s already halfway to it. He smiles and bites down on Lance’s bottom lip, savors the gentle shudder that goes through him. He twists his fingers up in Lance’s hair, and when he pulls another shudder goes down, until Lance presses up against him and the kiss starts moving.

Slow. They kiss like time isn’t real. Keith can’t stop smiling, and within moments he’s got his hips rocking against Lance’s in a constant, pleasant roll, the kind that sets sweet fires in their bellies.

“Hey, baby,” Lance whispers. He holds Keith by ribs, skin to skin. “Wanna lay down?”

Keith licks Lance’s top lip and then dives back into the kiss. He replies, “Nah,” and then pulls his shirt off. Lance’s follows without hesitation. More skin and warmth sets the wonderful haze even deeper into Keith’s head, and the haziness has him slowing down and whimpering into Lance’s mouth when their hips catch just right.

“I like this a lot,” Keith admits.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Lance wrestles with the button on Keith’s jeans. “Wanna get off?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathes. “Wait.” He catches Lance’s wrists. His brain is trying to move but it keeps bumping into walls. This is going to take a minute. Getting words out is hard enough, so Keith stops trying and just tumbles his way onto the floor. Lance’s thighs open for him, and within seconds Keith has his jeans and underwear off and he’s sucking a hickey into Lance’s hip with too much teeth and not enough spit, but Lance and already moaning and gripping his hair hard, so it must be good.

“Can I?” Keith mumbles, sucking and biting and trying not to be so obvious about wanting Lance’s dick in his mouth.

“Hell yes,” Lance gasps.

Keith smiles up at him. He knows it’s sloppy and crooked, and he knows his mouth is red and shiny with spit, and he knows he’s pretty fucking stoned and it’s making him too pliant and really easy, but he’s also got heat in his veins and Lance is really fucking hot, and he wants to suck his dick.

So he does.

Slow. Lance hates slow, usually, but this time, the slow is good and he doesn’t argue. Keith runs his hands up and down Lance’s thighs, petting him and holding his hips while licking up and down his hard cock, sucking with gusto and a lack of coordination. Everything’s better like this, he thinks. He feels it all more and gentler, like soaking in a bath instead of jumping in a lake.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart,” Lance gasps. He combs Keith’s hair back from his face. His eyes are all dark, mouth hung open and lips shiny red. His chest stutters with his breathing, like every time Keith goes down as far as he can he buzzes a nerve going up through Lance’s belly.

“On my face,” Keith begs. Later, he’ll be mortified.

“Ohhhh, fuck.” Lance pulls Keith’s bottom lip with his thumb and taps his tongue. Keith shivers, realizes he’s so hard his whole torso is aching. He digs his nails into Lance’s thighs and whimpers hard. “Keep going, baby, make me come and I’ll fuck you with my fingers.”

Involuntarily, Keith’s hips fuck forward and his eyes shutter closed, arousal lighting him up from the bones outward. There’s not much he loves more than Lance’s hands, and those are what got them into this situation at all, so the mere idea of ending this situation with them…

Keith tries to get to Lance’s soul through his dick, after that. He goes messy and wet and hard, everything Lance really likes and can’t hold out against. He keeps crying out and throwing his head back, showing off the line of his throat, the muscles in his shoulders and abs tensing and shifting as he moves Keith’s head and flexes his own hips. Keith’s need to touch him more overwhelms, and he rocks higher up on his knees to rake his nails down Lance’s chest.

“ _Keith,_ ” Lance hisses, and he pushes his hips up and Keith’s head down and comes into his mouth, gasping. Keith melts into it, closing his eyes, and he manages to get Lance’s dick out of his mouth in time to get come all down his cheek, just like he wanted.

“Jesus Christ, baby.”

“Hm?” Keith makes a show of licking his lips. He smirks up at Lance, eyes half-closed, turning his cheek against Lance’s palm, smearing come all over.

Back in Lance’s lap, naked and near shaking with need, Keith uses his thumb to wipe come off his face and then licks it up, staring Lance down and rocking his hips as he does. Sober, he’d be begging and bossy and already halfway to getting fucked over the arm of the couch. But like this, both of them loose-limbed and relaxed and wandering through that real pleasant fog, Keith feels he could wait forever. He knows he’ll get it, and as long as the wait involves Lance looking at him like _that_ , dark and needy, he can be patient.

“Stop that.” Lance mumbles it, adjusts them so they’re lounging a little more across the chair with Keith nuzzled into his side, one thigh hitched up, cock pressed to Lance’s hip.

“Stop what?” Keith bites his own thumb and wants the pain closer to his throat.

Lance answers by pushing two of his own fingers into Keith’s mouth. He drags his fingertips over the back of Keith’s tongue, making his eyes flutter shut and moan tremble out of him. Keith sucks, hard, and scrapes his teeth on Lance’s knuckles.

Part of him wants Lance to just fuck him like this, using Keith’s spit to make it easier and then pushing him open hard and rough, enough to make him cry and come within minutes. A bigger part of him wants to sit here and suck on Lance’s fingers until the world ends, whether or not he gets fucked into an orgasm.

But Lance seems to know what he wants, and soon he takes his fingers from Keith’s mouth and brings his own down for an open kiss, one that’s all tongue and Keith whimpering like he’s been hurt. The lube comes out of nowhere, it seems, but sober-Keith would have remembered they keep a bottle in the end table. For this exact situation.

“ _Fuuuuuck…._ ” Keith lets it out on an exhale and rolls his hips back while Lance pushes two fingers into him.

“You good?” Lance wonders, but he goes in hard and slow and relentless, like he knows Keith can take it, will take it, wants it to be more than he can process so it’s so good he can’t talk. Lance always knows what Keith wants. Keith could cry.

“So good,” he gasps. “ _Lance_ , fuck me— please, come on—”

“Ssh…” Lance moves a little more, both his hand and how they’re laying. He pulls Keith more onto him, using his free hand to grip high up on Keith’s leg and help him move his hips into the two— three, now— fingers fucking him open.

The heat breaks slow and steady. Keith whimpers and shudders and kisses Lance’s chest, rocking his whole body in time with the perfect thrusts, fisting his hands hard in the arm of the chair. Pleasure wracks through him. Lance’s wonderful voice unravels in his ear, velvet soft and pushing him closer to the edge.

“You know how pretty you are?” Lance whispers, catching his fingers just right so Keith open-mouth whines and twitches the lower half of his body into and away from touch. “So pretty, baby, on your knees with my cock in your mouth… Sitting on my lap sucking the come off your fingers… Even more pretty crying while I fuck you with my hand, begging for the real thing…”

Keith bites down a moan. Lance could do it, could easily just fuck him senseless and call it a night. Instead he’s drawing it out, and Keith knows he can’t blame everything on the weed. Sometimes, Lance is just cruel.

“Please,” Keith gasps. “Please fuck me—”

Lance bites his jaw, hard, and growls low while throwing sensations at Keith until he comes apart. He fingers hit home every time, his thigh pushes between Keith’s to get real pressure on his dick, his free hand yanks on Keith’s hair so hard his vision goes spotty and tears well up in his eyes. Lance pulls out all the tricks he has, and then Keith’s mind fuzzes out in a non-drug related way; he melts into the couch, comes with a sigh and a shiver that shakes his bones.

They kiss their way out of it. There’s come smeared all between their bellies, but Lance licks most of it up and leaves some bruises behind, in the process. Keith drifts in and out of sleep, waking fully to push his lips against Lance’s and touch his bare skin.

“So you think you’ll ever get high again?” Lance asks, too much cheek in his voice for Keith’s liking.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Next time are you gonna suck my dick?”

“No.” Lance pinched Keith’s nipple and made him twitch. “Next time we’re gonna shotgun and then I’m eating your ass.”

Keith’s heartbeat tripped and fell. “Oh,” he whispered.

“Mm hm.” Lance smiled at him. “You ready?”

“I’m beyond ready.” Keith could feel the drowsiness making a home at the base of his skull. He’d be asleep in minutes. “For now I’m gonna put my head here.” He snuggled against Lance and pressed his face into his shoulder, the warm spot that was full of heartbeat.

“Next time,” Lance promised, his own voice drowsy and slipping away.


End file.
